


It Super Was

by norabug



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex likes whiskey, Backstory, Dry Humping, Liam hates the rich, M/M, Making Out, Pre-Canon, Texas, alex is a bi disaster, not chronological
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norabug/pseuds/norabug
Summary: "Look, man, I don’t know what kind of sexual crisis you’re having right now, like, four years after it would have been useful, but, well. I’m not saying what we did in high school make you gay or bi or whatever, but I can tell you I’m gay, and that even though I acted like what we were doing wasn’t gay back then, it super was."Alex and Liam in high school, being the gay messes they both are.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Liam
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	It Super Was

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Alex for being such a bi disaster, Liam for having so much potential, Casey McQuiston for her absolutely beautiful book, and Lucy for being the best beta I could ask for. 
> 
> CW: underage drinking, drinking & driving

_Look, man, I don’t know what kind of sexual crisis you’re having right now, like, four years after it would have been useful, but, well. I’m not saying what we did in high school make you gay or bi or whatever, but I can tell you I’m gay, and that even though I acted like what we were doing wasn’t gay back then, it super was._

_Does that help, Alex?_

_My Bloody Mary is here and I need to talk to it about this phone call._

He certainly talks to his Bloody Mary about it, and his first and second refill too. Then he talks to Spencer, like, a lot, and then he talks to Spencer’s dick about it that night after he tries to tell him kissing the future first-son wasn’t actually a profound experience. 

As if Alex Claremont-Diaz could be anything else. 

...

Back then it was all unspoken agreements. Rules they didn’t break until they did. It had to be straight porn. Even if it was threesome stuff: it had to be two girls and a guy. Alex wasn’t into lesbian stuff, though, which Liam always respected. He’d heard the guys talk enough in the locker room to know some of them thought it was hot. 

Or how Alex always came to his if they were going to mess around, even if they’d certainly be more comfortable in his queen size bed, and probably have more privacy there too than they did at Liam’s duplex, with its thin walls and bathroom he shared with his two younger brothers. 

Privately, Liam thought Alex couldn’t handle being alone. Their senior year with June at college, his dad in Washington more often than not, and his mom spending every spare moment on the campaign trail, well, he figured Alex must be going insane in that big empty house. 

So, more often than not, they found themselves across town at Liam’s. 

...

Which is what makes that night so different. For once, Alex’s house is empty. His mom and step-dad are on a redeye back to Washington, even though they’d only flown in that morning, to watch Alex lead the team to another lacrosse state championship. He can’t help but be a little bit jealous, when his parents didn’t even make it across the city. Alex’s dad, likewise, must be just getting back to San Diego. His sister’s at the family lakehouse with her boyfriend for the weekend. 

Alex gets himself outrageously drunk at the team party, whereas Liam’s barely drunk enough to fail a breathalyzer when he corrales Alex into his little beat up Honda to drive him home. 

It's not his fault when the pull up in front of the Claremont-Diaz home Alex drags him inside. He’s half afraid if he doesn’t comply Alex will get behind the wheel, no matter what state he’s in, and make a fool of himself again trying to climb through Liam’s window. 

Liam’s told him not to do it, but not that it’s because his dad calls Alex only “that Mexican kid” and has made it known to Liam on a number of occasions that he doesn’t believe any self-respecting Texan should be a democrat. Alex’s never been one to listen. 

Inside Alex manages to put a record on, and produces a bottle of whisky from one of his desk drawers. They sit on the bed because there isn’t really anywhere else to sit - every surface is covered in notebooks or papers, dirty t-shirts tossed over the back of a chair with a lacrosse stick leaning up against it. 

“To victory!” Alex proclaims, raising the bottle - which is only about half full - as high as he can in the air. He takes a spluttering sip which ends with whiskey dripping down his chin, before he flops back on the bed, waving the bottle passively in Liam’s direction. 

“Y’kay man?” Liam asks, laughing at himself for how slurred it comes out. 

“Fuck yeah” Alex mumbles, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip to collect the liquid that’s gathered there. 

Liam takes the bottle from Alex - he seriously needs to catch up - and takes several deep chugs before setting it on the floor by the bed where Alex has his eyes closed. He thinks Alex might be headed towards passing out, which wouldn’t be such a bad idea, and collapses unceremoniously next to him. Oh. maybe he’s more intoxicated than he thought. These things tend to sneak up on him. 

Suddenly, though, Alex is up and laughing at nothing in particular, reaching over Liam to grab the whiskey on the floor, and plants a hand solidly on Liam’s ass to steady himself, which seems to make him laugh harder. He tries to drink and once again ends up spilling amber liquid all over his face. Liam realizes he’s laughing too, open-mouthed, as he takes the bottle for himself as Alex is pulling off his shirt to wipe up his face with. Liam takes another deep swig, before setting the whiskey bottle upright on the bedside table. 

And then they’re lying in Alex’s bed facing each other and Alex is shirtless and drunk beyond belief when he leans over and fits his lips to Liams and Liam is tipsy enough that he doesn’t stop him, even though he knows he should, even though he knows Alex would never do this sober but maybe he himself would. 

He doesn’t exactly kiss back, not at first, but he doesn’t pull away either and Alex takes this as his all clear and manhandles Liam towards him, rolls on top of him so his thighs are bracketing Liam’s hips, and kisses him in earnest. 

Now Liam kisses back. 

Then Alex shifts, slots his lips against Liam’s at a new angle, invites Liam to slide his tongue into his mouth. Liam responds in turn, kissing him harder feeling Alex’s tongue against his own. 

He experimentally slides one hand into Alex’s hair, like he’s wanted to for at least a year, gripping it at the roots, and Alex honest-to-god groans, sliding his hand down Liam’s back to grip at his ass and hoisting him up so their bodies slot together and _oh_ Liam thinks as somewhere in the back of his mind he register’s that they’re both hard. 

Alex grinds down against him shamelessly, and Liam can’t the moan it elicits, which only seems to rile Alex up more. 

_Holy fuck what am I doing_ Liam thinks as Alex goes to work on his neck - right below his ear to the crook of his jaw to his pulse point - leaving bite marks that are sure to be bruises in the morning.

It feels so good but he can smell the whiskey on Alex’s breath and he knows, he knows, Alex will regret this in the morning. He can’t help but think of that night in March - that night he tries not to think about. 

…

It wasn’t unprecedented, them watching porn together and getting themselves off. They’d known each other as long as Liam could remember, their bodies as familiar as Alex’s strong political opinions or Liam’s love of spicy food. From baths together as kids to the high school locker rooms after lacrosse practice, Alex’s body was as familiar to him as his own. 

He’d known his dick was half an inch longer than Alex’s since Alex had made them measure when they were thirteen. 

So that March when Alex had the sprained wrist and pulled up his indie porn site of choice (Alex thought pirated porn was immoral - the rant Liam had endured after Alex found pornhub open on his computer lasted late into the night, and of course Alex had no qualms about dropping money on several website subscriptions) and Liam, who could see him grimacing as he alternated between between trying to find a good angle with his left hand and wincing through several slow jerks with his right, had finally just reached over, batting his hand away, and grabbed Alex himself. 

Liam gave a few slow tubs, what he preferred for himself, as compared to Alex’s usual frantic hurry. Alex was already slick from some combination of sweat and spit, but Liam couldn’t resist swiping his thumb across Alex’s tip to gather the precum accumulated there, and Alex didn’t need to know it was the low moan this elicited and Liam’s own ministrations that set him off. The laptop sat askew, pushed down the bed, practically forgotten. 

A second later Alex is cumming too and Liam is so in awe that _he_ did _that_ that it takes him a second longer than it should for him to pull his hand away - only at Alex’s strained “thanks” does he hastily yank it back, reaching down the bed to grab the towel he had set out earlier - wiping his hand, then cleaning up his own mess and passing it over. They sit in silence for what feels like several full minutes - longer than Alex is ever quiet for - before Alex grabs the whiskey bottle and foregoing the plastic glasses on the pile of old textbooks that serves as a bedside table and takes several deep chugs straight from the bottle. 

Liam is so distracted watching the bob of Alex’s Adam’s apple he doesn’t even consider what he’s done - what they’ve done - until Alex is smacking his lips, closing the forgotten laptop, and saying he has to go. 

“Hey, wait - we could - wanna play some call of duty? Noah’s grounded from using the playstation.” Liam asked, scrambling out of the bed and digging around on the floor for a semi-clean pair of boxers. Alex is ahead of him - already pulling his shirt over his head. 

“I gotta finish that gov paper.” Alex says, shaking his head, not meeting Liam’s eyes. “Saturday?” 

“Um, yeah, sure.” Liam says, sitting back on the bed. 

Alex is gone before Liam can remind him he’d seen Alex finish the paper the day before. 

The door closes, and Liam flops back on the bed. His arm hits something cold and hard - the whiskey bottle - still half full. Of course Alex left it. It's, what, fifty dollars? Liam sighs, before twisting the top off and helping himself to several deep chugs. He stumbles out of bed, screwing the top of the bottle back on, shoving it in the back of his sock drawer. 

_Fucking Alexander Claremont-Diaz._

  
  



End file.
